Upsetting One and All

Over the weekend, without breaking a sweat, I may have let down all kinds of people, including myself.

I went to a book fair in the fair city of West Hollywood, which sits right next to Beverly Hills. It was in a park, but not in the swimming pool, which was vacant but looked inviting nonetheless. There were tents set up all over the place, mostly to shield local book sellers from the weather. They may have been expecting rain, but what we got was unrelenting sunshine.

Out in the parking lot there were tons of used, cheap books, most of which I wouldn't have bought as new. There was a great little book written by J. Edgar Hoover talking about Communism that I considered, but the line to pay was too long for just one book. I don't know if it was in West Hollywood because of the subject matter (West Hollywood is a gay, liberal stronghold) or the author. Sadly, there was no picture of the author in a dress.

There was much going on in the Bodhi Tree tents. That's a local bookstore / supply store for New Age, occult, transcendentalism, paranormal goods. I've bought things there in the past, but this time steered clear of the aura cleansers and their ilk.

I went, mostly, to see one of my friends speak at a panel and was pleasantly surprised to see a few others there. They're all music people, a subject that makes me nearly as nervous as plays. I don't feel adequate when talking about music, not at all. Although I love listening to it and played a few instruments, it's an intimidating thing for me. I don't know anything about music, hardly any of the people or legends, and everyone else is so worldly I don't ever have anything to contribute to the conversation.

But that's not the point.

After the panel I panicked and, like the four year old I often resemble, I fled without saying goodbye or anything. I just took off. I rode to a nearby bustop in the heart of Beverly Hills, a block or so away from famous Rodeo Drive, I think, and waited for the bus to take me home. I thought I'd entertain my blog readers with a series of famous people I saw but I quickly realized two things:

1) I don't know very many famous people.
2) I can never recognize anyone.

When I'm out with friends and someone famous is in the restaurant or whatever, it's always the duty of the person I'm with to recognize the famous person. After doing that, I can see them, but not before.

I saw lots of very nice cars that may have had celebrities in them, but none of them had signs telling me who was inside. It may have just been rich people.

So, I can't relate any big star sightings, have yet to apologize to my friends for bolting, and on the way home I learned that my debit card had expired a few days prior when I went to pay for some groceries.

I hope they've put them away by now since some of them required refrigeration.